Deadpooluigi's Mansion
by Sonowa
Summary: When a hit job goes to a haunted mansion, who can you count on to take down the resident spooks? No, not the Ghostbusters, that other guy. A birthday fanfic for Janey1097.
1. The Second Floor

**Author's Note: I don't own Deadpool or Luigi's Mansion. If I did, I'd be significantly happier.**

**The following is a birthday fic for the most beautiful girl I've never seen before, Janey1097. As a fellow writer and (hopefully) good friend, I wish you a happy birthday, Jane.**

**So without further ado… a thing. Yeah.**

* * *

><p>Deadpool stared at the map in his hands once again. A sullen crow cawed into the night above him, though it was quickly silenced by a bullet to the head.<p>

"I'm still not used to these 'follow the map' assassinations. Couldn't you just say where they live and let me find them myself? That's half the fun, gone already!" the mercenary complained. "And now I have to deal with these freaking crows as well?"

"Caw!"

"I thought we had an agreement here!" Deadpool responded with another bullet.

After a bit more walking, the Crimson Comedian finally found his way to the designated area on the map. The phrase "Your new mansion!" pointed towards it.

"So the target's in here? And Stark's complaining about how his tower's too small and everything," Deadpool muttered, before raising a masked eyebrow. "How do I even know Stark in the first place?"

Deadpool blinked. "Oh right, the big menacing building. Yeah, that as well."

Indeed, a great mansion sat in front of Deadpool, a haunting green color painted on its rusty walls and a menacing aura exerting from it.

"Eh," Deadpool shrugged before charging into the mansion.

"Would those who are more weak-hearted and of the female gender please come forward," Deadpool started, "for Deadpool is in the…"

The mercenary looked around.

"House?"

The room was barren, save for a single chandelier on the ceiling and a small mirror.

"Hello? Anybody? I don't even have those voices in my head anymore! Would someone just come out so I can insult their faces?" Deadpool asked the emptiness.

As if by request, a strange orange glow entered the room, dropped a key, and left with a ghoulish chuckle.

"You know what, I'll take it. And I'll laugh, too! Ha!" Deadpool boasted, picking up the key.

Immediately afterwards, a large map of the building popped up, with Deadpool's bouncing head in the foyer itself.

"Whoa! I'm Q*Bert! Now I can swear and get away with it! F-"

And the map disappeared. Deadpool snapped his fingers with disappointment, but still jumped up and entered the next door, albeit without the key, preferring to pry the door open with a katana.

The next room was just as barren as the first. Deadpool grumbled to himself as he walked forward, before realizing he was walking into an orange creature.

"It's a ghost, Scoob!" Deadpool cried out before firing his pistols at point-blank range. The bullets passed through the specter as he laughed and called for companions.

"I killed zombies, which are undead. Ghosts are also undead. If this is the case, WHY CAN'T I KILL YOU?" Deadpool cried out, throwing everything he had at the orange ghosts.

Suddenly, in a Deus ex Machina that would make the crimson comedian blush, a small man with a vacuum appeared from nowhere, sucking away at the spooks.

"Hold on tight, youngster!" the old man commanded. "It's going to be a wild ride!"

"I've already faced that through Capcom, geezer!" Deadpool replied as the vacuum dragged itself across the floor as it sucked up the orange ghosts.

"You shouldn't be around here," the old man warned. "These ghosts… they popped out of nowhere a few weeks ago, they did. Said they were after jewels of the finest quali-"

"My hit money?" Deadpool interrupted.

The old man blinked. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, youngster. Anyways…

"The name's Professor Elvin Gadd. Please, call me E. Gadd."

"I'll call you whatever I like, man! You can't tie me down! I'm a free assassin!" Deadpool responded. "From now on, you are Fred!"

"No… I'm E. Gadd."

"Eh… good enough."

A few moments passed before more ghosts popped up.

"We'd best scram, sonny. You're not properly prepared!" the professor beckoned.

"How is carrying all sorts of ninja weapons not properly prepared, again?" Deadpool asked as he escaped.

* * *

><p>"So you were sent here to take someone out, is it?" Gadd asked in a small hut which he apparently owned.<p>

"Yep. But from what I can see, you're the only person here who isn't risen from the dead," Deadpool responded, his foot tapping impatiently. "I need to kill something here, or else this job isn't worth it at all. I could be hanging out with good old Taskmaster, killing some loiterers or jaywalkers or something."

"So you… don't want the money?"

"No, I want the money and the chance to kill things. Perk up your ears, geezer!"

Gadd sighed, but handed the vacuum to Deadpool.

"If this is a 'you suck' pun, I applaud you for effort, and effort alone," Deadpool muttered.

"No, sonny, that's how you get rid of the ghosts. You suck 'em up! Pow! Pow!" Gadd replied, punching the air for emphasis.

Deadpool stared at the old man, before finally saying a very flat "What."

"Well, it's perfect logic, really," Gadd responded. "Like the old saying goes, you can't make an omelet without using a vacuum cleaner!"

"Finally, someone who speaks my language!" Deadpool cheered. "And can it contain money?"

It was Gadd's turn to stare.

"Like… it's a vacuum, but is it a super vacuum, or can it still… y'know… do what vacuums do?"

"I… guess it could hold money," Gadd finally responded.

"Sold," Deadpool said immediately afterwards.

"So… where will you go, Luigi?" Gadd asked.

"Um…" Deadpool stuttered, staring into a green box with a sole hand. "The big, spooky place with money in it."

"SPLENDID!" the professor cheered with a seemingly perverse glee. "Now you have fun, youngster. And if you catch a big'un, I'll call you back on your Game Boy Horror."

"My what?"

But Deadpool's question remained unanswered as he was shoved into the mansion once again.

The foyer was still dark, though a single burst of lightning showed a weeping mushroom.

"You know, I never really salted these things before," Deadpool commented. "Let's see if it's any different than the stuff they put on my pizza."

But before the mercenary could nibble on the fungus, he immediately, for whatever reason, stood up.

"Wah...Wow! It's Luigi! You finally made it! Oh, joy! Thank goodness! Me? Well, Princess Peach asked me to come here to look for Mario. He left when he heard that you'd won a mansion, and he never returned! Th...then when I arrived here, the mansion was full of ghosts and I didn't see Mario anywhere, and I kind of freaked out a little, and I didn't know what to do! It's been awful! Please, please, please, you HAVE to help me find Mario! If he doesn't get back, you have no idea how upset the princess will be! She'll flip!" the mushroom spoke, relatively quickly.

"Hi," Deadpool responded with a wave.

"Do you want to save your game?" the mushroom asked. Deadpool responded by munching it down, a joyous "OM-NOM-NOM" coming from his mouth between bites.

After finishing off the anthropomorphic fungus, Deadpool's attention was focused to the door in front of him. A heart was etched onto the door, though a strange series of spiked vines covered it.

"Logic denotes that this door probably can't be opened," Deadpool spoke. "Which means it's a very good thing that I'm illogical!"

He still couldn't open the door.

"Shut up, you!" the mercenary yelled at the narration. "I'll just do this the hard way. And by that, I kind of mean the easy way. Because when it comes to killing things, that shit is EASY, son!"

With that, Deadpool ran to the room where he first encountered the orange ghouls. Whipping out the vacuum cleaner, he sucked up the lot of the ghosts in a matter of seconds.

"Oh yeah! Who you gonna call? Deadpool, baby!" the mercenary cheered.

His cheer stopped, however, when his eye caught a nearby table.

"I have no clue why," he began, "but I have the sudden and uncontrollable urge to vigorously dry-hump this table."

And so he did. Fortunately enough, several coins and dollar bills popped out of the furniture, which Deadpool quickly grabbed with a suction.

"I knew that grinding wooden objects could only lead to wealth!" Deadpool cheered with a pump of his fist. "Now to open the door!"

**Or not.**

"I saw that!"

**You need to get the key.**

"The what?"

**The key. It's in that box over there.**

Indeed, a small green chest lay a few feet from Deadpool. With a kick, it opened to reveal a small key.

"Wait, how did you know that?" Deadpool asked the mysterious voice/text.

**Well, I'm just kind of used to it.**

"You sure you're not just that voice in my head again?"

**No, not in particular. I'm actually seen by quite a few people.**

"Can I have a name?"

**Sure. Deadpool.**

The mercenary raised a finger in accusation, but lowered it. "You know what? I'll let that slide. Well played."

With that, Deadpool entered the room, sucking up more ghosts, pink ones joining their orange counterparts.

"This is getting pretty old, and I'm barely into it," Deadpool complained.

**Well, get used to it. It'll be here for another forty-odd rooms. And some ghosts have personalities.**

"Try me," the mercenary replied. "How can these ghosts not be boring?"

Entering the next room, a green ghost popped out of nowhere, ate a banana, and left the peel on the ground. With a joking chuckle, he then left with a spin.

"Yep. Pretty wacky."

**Oh, shut up.**

After ridding of the ghosts, the lights remained off.

"Wait, why didn't I notice that these lights turned on after the ghosts became part of the Dead-Undead?" Deadpool asked.

**It's assumed that the readers have at least some knowledge of the game. That's one of the really obvious parts.**

"I'm sorry, what's this about a game?"

**Um… look! It's a wardrobe! Dry-hump it!**

"Damn it, he knows my weakness!" Deadpool swore as he furiously grinded the wardrobe, a blue ghost popping out with a scream. Deadpool's ridiculous instincts caught the ghoul, who exploded in a mountain of cash.

"Still worth it!" Deadpool quipped, sucking up his winnings and the final ghost that he bypassed.

Entering the next room…

"I think they understand that I'm making progression over here!"

Whatever. It's a balcony. Looks like _someone_ doesn't want to take things seriously around here.

Regardless, another mushroom sat there, weeping next to a bunch of plants.

**Bottle its tears! It's the only way to water the plants!**

"Hm?" Deadpool asked between bites of mushroom.

**Oh, nothing.**

Walking back, Deadpool's interest was caught by a nearby mirror.

"Man… I still look this flabby? I need to assassinate more often. Maybe there's something in my pocket?" Deadpool wondered aloud as he searched his pouches, finding only a Game Boy Color.

"Aw, sweet! I hope it's got that one version of Street Fighter II!" the mercenary hoped as he switched the game on.

The world swirled around Deadpool, leaving him very confused in the foyer, the game console off.

"Well… this game sucks," Deadpool muttered to himself.

**No, it's just the mirror. You activate it in front of a mirror, and you go back here. Somehow. Ghost logic.**

"I know, right?"

**Shut up and progress the story.**

"Yes, sir!"

With his newly found key ("How'd I get this again?"), Deadpool entered a corridor, and then another room.

"Could you please word this better? I'm a badass, for crying out loud!"

Fine.

The crimson comedian flung himself into the gloomy hallway, countless rat ghosts crawling on the grungy floors and walls. With ninja-like speed, he rushed into a nearby door which was unlocked, and slammed it behind him, his vacuum ready for suctioning. ARE YOU HAPPY?

"Quite, actually."

It was at this moment that Deadpool noticed a small piece of cheese in the corner of the room.

**Please don't tell me you're going to eat it.**

"But it looks so good!"

**Dude. It's not only cheese, it's freaking GHOST CHEESE. How are you going to eat it, if it is A GHOST.**

"Limitations!"

With that, Deadpool sneaked up to the dead dairy, only to find a golden mouse nibbling upon it.

"Aw crap, I left my ghost cat in the other suit!" Deadpool moaned as the mouse fled through a wall.

If it makes you feel any better, that mouse had money in its body.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Deadpool's shortest attention span known to humanity quickly turned to the fact that there was a rocking chair, rocking on its own accord. However, his never-ending quest to hump furniture was interrupted by the yawning of a paranormal man reading in the chair.

"Ah, look! He's reading X-Force!" Deadpool noted. "Nice choice, man!"

**So you're not going to kill him?**

"Isn't he already dead?"

**Well, kill him some more. I think this guy is necessary in order to… do… some stuff.**

"You can't make me!"

**If you beat him, he farts pearls.**

"Hm?" the ghost muttered. "Oh, look, it's that guy in the comic. Marvelous…"

The ghost gave a great yawn, and with that, Deadpool sucked him up in a quick fashion.

**Guess you wanted those pearls, huh?**

"Screw those! He didn't know my name. He didn't know that I was Deadpool! How degrading can you get?"

**At least you weren't called Superman or anything.**

"Yeah, yeah." Can we move on?

They moved on to a small bedroom, where a female ghost sat, brushing her hair.

"Well hello, pretty dead lady. I guess you're so beautiful that you looked in that mirror and died in amazement, huh?" Deadpool said with a not-so-subtle nudge of the elbow.

"…"

"Hello? Me human, you hot ghost? Anything?"

"…"

"Screw it, it's vacuum time!"

**I don't advise that.**

"But she's still a ghost, right?"

**Her weakness isn't here yet. Why not open the window? That'll really spook her.**

"Did it take us that long to make a ghost pun?"

**I'll see if I can scare something else up.**

"Would you stop that?" Deadpool asked as he tore down the shades with a well-aimed slice of the katana.

"Close the window," the woman asked, unmoving.

Deadpool blinked, and then quickly sucked her up.

**Are you going to make a fellatio joke, or are we too proud for that?**

"You're the one who thought of it," Deadpool responded, exiting the room.

The walls were ringing with the sounds of a squealing baby.

"I think someone's wet the bed," Deadpool quipped as he ran to, and entered, the nursery, where the ghost baby sat, wailing away.

**Any idea on how to change a ghost diaper?**

"Pway!" the baby shouted with glee. "Pway with meeeeee!"

"Aw no, it's one of those religious babies!" Deadpool said, clearly panicked. "How do I suck it up?"

**I don't do well with kids. Just play along. Like… I don't know. Catch or something. Try throwing the beach ball over there.**

"You don't have hands. How can I…"

A very large ball fell to Deadpool's feet. With a shrug, he chucked it at the child's head. It collided with the baby, who fell back.

"Ow! You gave me an owie, stupid wed man!" the baby whined.

"Aw, look! He likes me!" Deadpool said. "Who's my favorite little mercenary? You are! You are!"

"No! I'm tired of you being biggew than me! Now you're gonna be much smawwer!"

"Smawwer!" Deadpool laughed. "I love this kid! I love this kid… what?"

Deadpool looked around to see that either the crib had become humongous, or he had become much smaller.

"All right, kid. Prepare for the sucking of a lifetime!" the little Deadpool shouted, the vacuum in full force.

"You can't hit me!" the baby taunted, jumping around like he was still alive. "Not even those mean ol' beach bawws can hit me!"

"WAAAAAAAH HA HA HA! Beach bawws! Say it again! Say it again, please!"

**Deadpool… the mission at hand?**

"But he needs to say "beach ball" again! He's too damn cute to kill!"

**He has the shiny key. And remember what we learned about shiny?**

"Shiny… is good?"

**There you go. Now kill a dead baby!**

And so he did. Wasn't that impressive, actually. I could do that with one hand tied behind my…

"Respawn!" Deadpool mockingly said. "Now tell them about the fight!"

No. I don't want to.

"Wait…" Deadpool started. "Do I have two voices in my head?"

Yeah.

**Probably.**

"Well, why are only you narrating it?"

Who, me?

**Anyone else here?**

Yeah, good point.

…

**You hear something?**

"Yeah, it's… chiptune or something. I think I left my game on," Deadpool apologized, reaching for the Game Boy Color.

"Youngster! Pick up, youngster!" Gadd demanded from the game device. "I can't believe you've already filled the ol' Poltergust 3000!"

**It was called the Poltergust 3000?**

My thoughts exactly.

"You'd best come back to the lab, sonny," Gadd said. "We'll get those ghosts back into the gallery."

**What gallery?**

"So does this mean I can't finish my game?" Deadpool asked as he walked back to Gadd's home.

"This is the Ghost Portrificationizer!" Gadd said, pointing to a giant machine. "Ghosts go in, paintings come out!"

"And then I get money, right?" Deadpool asked.

"In time, sonny. This only works with ghosts. So…"

**Boring.**

Yeah, I agree.

"Whatever, geezer. Can I just hunt ghosts again?" Deadpool muttered.

"Um-"

"Great, see you later!" the mercenary waved, running back to the mansion with the vacuum in tow.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Confused? I am as well.<strong>

**And so ends the first chapter of… this. It's really risky of me to do something this outrageous as a birthday fic, but… I don't really care.**

**TDT will be updating soon as well, but this little bastard will get a special place here; the next three chapters will be uploaded in the next three weeks, one every Sunday.**

**Also, I know this isn't my best work, but then again, I'm toying with the triple-narrative of Deadpool and the character himself, so… yeah. Fun times.**

**I thank you for reading, and again, happy birthday, Jane. Lord knows you deserve it.**


	2. The First Floor

"Where will you go, youngster?"

Deadpool's empty gaze stared directly into the bespectacled eyes of Professor Elvin Gadd.

"Where will I go?" Deadpool paraphrased. "What does that mean? There's the mansion, which holds my only hopes of getting the hit I was hired for and the money I deserve, or there's your crappy art museum. Where the hell else would I go?"

"There's always the training room!" Gadd interjected.

"The room where you stick me in with eleven ghosts that escaped and you force me to get them back?"

Gadd nodded.

Palm meeting face, Deadpool tromped back to the mansion. Turning on his flashlight, he entered the foyer once again.

**Oh hey, you're back!**

"Voices in my head already," Deadpool noted to a non-existent audience. "No wonder the mansion's deserted."

**So you're ready for another go at the mansion, eh? Knocking out ghosts side by side, giving 'em hell in the afterlife! You and me, Deadpool. Brothers in arms. Strength and strategy. Biscuits and gra-**

"I get it," Deadpool interrupted. "Look, there's one thing we've gotta settle before we continue, and that's a name."

**A name? Deadpool, listen to me. I'm a _voice in your head._ Naming me will simply increase your worries about how you're going to escape with your sanity.**

"I didn't enter with any. Just give me your answer," Deadpool sighed. "My trigger finger's getting itchy.

**All right… you can call me Fackmage.**

A brief moment of silence was interrupted by an extremely heavy sigh from the crimson comedian.

**I warned you.**

"All right, so the name wasn't a good idea. Neither was taking up a hit job in a mansion, of course, but anything to pay for the chimichangas nowadays."

**I'll agree to that.**

"So how much is left?"

**The mansion itself has four floors. We've scoured the second for all it's worth, so it's time to investigate the first.**

"Sounds good."

**You can enter right through that door, assuming you got the key from the nursery.**

From behind the mask, a look of utter dread crossed Deadpool's tumor-covered face.

**…Please, please don't tell me you forgot the key.**

"I was in a rush! There were multiple voices! And then the Game Boy and the vacuum and…"

**Look, just get the key.**

Deadpool gave a slight nod, and put his hands on his hips. With a cry of "BAMF!" he disappeared from view, only to reappear a few moments later with a pink key in hand, its heart-shaped handle glistening from the chandelier.

"This is the gayest key I have ever seen," Deadpool muttered before tossing it at the locked door. The thistles surrounding it dissipated, the lock breaking with a not-so-satisfying crunch.

**There's the first floor. We're making progress.**

"That can wait. For now, let's just get go-"

Deadpool's words were interrupted by the appearance of a floating candelabra.

"No… no, not you!"

**What is it?**

"It's my first bounty, back when I was still Kidpool! I stole it from some snob, but I sold it for enchilada money… and now it's going to take its revenge on me!"

**Oh, sure. You laugh at my name, but a floating candlestick comes along, and you're suddenly not so tough, now are you?**

Ignoring the insults from his mind, Deadpool scampered across the corridor, toying with every door he could find. Finally, he located one without a lock, and entered it immediately.

Unfortunately, it was not the best room he could have hoped for.

"The bathroom?"

**The bathroom. If there was any time to remove the excretion from your outfit, now would be a good time.**

"Oh, shut up."

As soon as Fackmage zipped his non-existent lips, a white ghost emerged from the bathtub. Approaching Deadpool slowly, it wrapped its arms around the mercenary.

"Hold it, hold it! Bullets and fists can't hurt ghosts, but if one wants to grab hold of me, that's just a-okay? Who came up with this crap, the Japanese?"

**Now would be a good time to pull out the vacuum instead of getting yourself in even more trouble.**

With a familiar glimmer of antiheroism in his masked eyes, Deadpool whipped out the vacuum, sucking up the ghost among the few others that had joined it.

**Figures that you'd rely on something that can only suck and blow…**

"…Aren't I supposed to be the smart-aleck here?" Deadpool asked the invisible crowd once more before plucking a key from a high shelf.

After another run-in with the floating candlestick ("Get out of my nightmares!"), Deadpool found himself in a low-lit ballroom. Masked ghosts holding spears engaged in a tribal dance of sorts in a small circle.

"Now logic would denote that the spear is merely a ghost spear, since ghosts can hold them," Deadpool theorized before being prodded from the edge of one. "Logic would also denote that they would affect the ghosts." Stealing a spear, he thrusted it into an eye socket of the ghost. No effect.

**Just goes to show how you can never rely on logic.**

"Hope you've learned an important lesson today, kids!"

A brief vacuuming session later, another ghostly couple began to dance.

"Oh, how drab. Costume parties are so overrated nowadays," the male ghost commented.

"Indeed. Stick to your storybooks, hon," his partner added.

Seething in rage, Deadpool stormed up to the dancing couple.

"I TOLD YOU, MOM, THEY'RE COMIC BOOOOOOOKS!"

With the nerdiest battle cry ever given, Deadpool sucked the couple up in one fell swoop, helping himself to the several pearls that exited their body.

**I'm not sure if I should be impressed or distressed. I think I'll stick with neutral, if that's all right.**

"Looks like I'm dancing on my own," Deadpool quipped, Fackmage giving a groan of unhappiness.

Opening the nearby door, Deadpool was unimpressed by the large stack of boxes and the lackluster ghosts.

What did catch his eye, however, was a nearby switch.

**Don't touch that.**

"You can't tell me what to do!"

**No, I mean _do not touch that_. Fifty-one of the strongest ghosts in history are in there. Letting them go is the wrong idea.**

Measuring out the consequences and deciding on a final choice of "I don't give a crap," Deadpool whacked the switch. The left wall moved out of the way, revealing… another switch.

**Okay, then at least don't touch this one.**

Unfortunately, Fackmage finished his sentence a few seconds after the switch had already been hit. An unseen grating opened from the floor, with tens of white ghosts flying out, cackling with glee. Deadpool, however, had prepared for this occasion, and had the vacuum cleaner at the ready. On its highest setting, thirty-five of the ghosts were caught in one blow.

"Hee hee hee… don't count us out just yet, red!" a ghost called out, noteworthy for the jeweled crown resting on his head. "You'll never take us all out!"

With one final cackle, the ghost flew off to an unseen room.

"…What just happened?" Deadpool asked, having caught up with his senses.

**I warned you, man. Now sixteen of those Boos are still here in the mansion, including their leader.**

"You mean the one with the jewel?"

**Yeah, the King Boo. He's probably the one who hired you, all for his escape plan.**

"That conniving little… wait, they're booze?"

**Boos.**

"Yeah, booze. So why aren't they all drunk as hell right now?"

**It's Boos, not booze! Boos!**

"…Man, now I have to go to the bathroom."

**We were just there!**

"But I didn't have to go then!"

A faint buzzing interrupted the one-man argument.

"Youngster, you there?" E. Gadd asked through the Game Boy Horror. "You've just let loose the Boos!"

"Gaaaaaaaaah! Stop saying that!" Deadpool said, tossing the system to the ground and running to the nearest lavatory.

Another run-in with the candlestick notwithstanding, the sprint was unexciting. When Deadpool entered, however, he found himself face-to-face with the loyal Mushroom Retainer.

"Didn't I eat you? Like, twice?" Deadpool asked, scratching his head.

"Sniff… I dropped something REALLY important in the toilet…" Toad whined, apparently not hearing the merc's comment.

One gobbling later, Deadpool finally relieved himself. Looking down at the mess he made, he was surprised to find…

"Oh, God."

**A key?**

"A key."

**Was it there before or after you did your business?**

"…Oh, double God."

Pulling out a pair of pliers from seemingly nowhere, Deadpool held his already-covered nose as he picked up the key. Fackmage led him to his next destination, the candelabra not in sight.

Entering the room (and quickly disposing of the piss-riddled key), Deadpool took note of a crystal ball in the middle of the room. Paying it no mind, he marched into the next room.

It took the crimson comedian a minute to gather himself.

"This room… is amazing!"

**It's a mirror.**

"Finally, a room filled with nothing but me in it!" Deadpool cheered, approaching his reflection for a hug.

The embrace was interrupted, however, by another one.

"Fackmage, I don't love you like that, bro…"

**It's not me! Look at the mirror!**

Deadpool complied. There stood a tall, handsome mercenary, with glistening muscles, a devil-may-care look in the eyes, and a supermodel on each arm.

**Turn off the imagination filter…**

Deadpool complied. There stood a tall, handsome mercenary, with glistening muscles, a devil-may-care look in the eyes, and a ghost with its hands dangerously close to his crotch.

"Invisible rapists! The worst possible kind…" Deadpool shuddered before sucking up the specter, alongside the few others that were creeping around.

As the lights turned on, a large box appeared in the middle of the room.

"That one I can touch?"

**Yeah, it's all yours.**

"You sure? No booby traps? No pie to the face?"

**Never thought you could be more paranoid than you already were, Deadpool. You're always full of surprises.**

To translate into what Deadpool heard: "Open the box!"

With a heave, the box was opened. Within laid a small, red medallion with an image of a flame.

"You there, youngster?" E. Gadd's voice was heard again, the Game Boy Horror rematerializing in his pocket.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"That's the Fire Element, son. That Poltergust of yours can now shoot out fire whenever you please!"

"I already have a flamethrower."

As Gadd shook a stubby fist in anger on the screen, Deadpool tossed the Game Boy Horror to the side once again.

**So now what?**

"Now, I conquer my fear."

Stomping through the mirror room and fortune-teller's room, Deadpool stopped in front of the floating candelabra.

"Leave me alone!" Deadpool cried out before setting the wicks alight.

In the newly exposed light stood a tuxedo-wearing ghost, meekly holding the stick in his hand.

"…So, you're not a floating candlestick?"

The butler shook his head.

"Well, this'll be great fun to tell my therapist."

**He's getting away! After him!**

Giving chase, Deadpool raced through the corridors once again, finding himself in a small room with a washing machine.

"Well, I guess I could wash my soiled suit," Deadpool muttered before tossing himself into the machine. Twenty minutes later, he hopped back out, squeaky clean.

**You got something on your person, there.**

Deadpool tugged away at a loose thread, which belonged to…

"A hat?"

**A hat.**

"Okay, so now I have a hat."

**Will that stop the butler?**

"CHEESE IT, THE BUTLER!"

Practically tripping into the next room, Deadpool arrived in time to see the butler seat himself down.

"Prepare to be served, butler!" Deadpool cried out in (feigned?) agony as the vacuum absorbed the well-dressed ghost.

…**Wasn't that just a _little_ overkill?**

"Butlers are bad medicine. You should know this by now!"

**All right.**

…

**Oh look, a hole in the wall.**

"Don't sing it."

**I'm gonna sing it.**

"Don't you dare sing it, I swear…"

**Deadpool's going through the hole in the wall, the hole in the wall, the hole in the-**

Fackmage could not finish his song, as Deadpool had escaped already through the same hole.

The mercenary was faced with a room filled to the brim with golden treasure chests and goblets. Even the walls seemed to sparkle with the very essence of…

"Paydirt!" Deadpool cried out in the same glee as he did when he entered the mirror room.

* * *

><p>The hidden room having been emptied of its treasure, Deadpool boldly maneuvered his way through the corridors due to the lack of a floating candlestick.<p>

After choosing the correct door (here meaning "not locked"), the crimson comedian was interrupted by an all-too-familiar urge.

"I've gotta hump these instruments," he boldly declared, before sticking his groin into a xylophone.

Several instruments later, a piano melody accompanied the harp, drums, and other instruments that had been tainted by a cancerous crotch. The tune was familiar to Deadpool's ears, to the extent that he could hum an unheard lyrical part that made sense, but the words escaped him.

"Would you like to hear another?" a voice asked.

Turning to the piano, Deadpool noticed a young ghost girl tickling the ivories. Before he could respond, the girl played a soothing tune that practically lulled him to sleep.

**Oh, no…**

At that moment, the tempo spiked dramatically, with piano sheets flying towards the sleeping merc's head.

**Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up…**

The sheets neared.

**Getupgetupgetup…**

Nearer.

**Paper cuts!**

"PAPER CUTS!"

Deadpool leaped out of the way, sucking up the ghost in mid-jump before landing on his feet in a ridiculous, yet completely awesome fashion.

**High five.**

"If only."

After a bit more pointless wandering, Deadpool found himself in a well-decorated dining room. The ever-familiar sound of ravenous eating echoed throughout the room, coming from a small pile of gelatin in the middle of the room.

**Please don't try to make sense of this as well.**

"But that's the thing! Is it real gelatin being eaten by a ghost, or is it-"

**Well, you can suck it up, so it's probably just the ghost of gelatin.**

"Gelatin has a soul?"

**Would you just suck it up already?**

Pulling out the vacuum once again, the crimson comedian managed to rid of around half of the gelatin before slow-moving ghost butlers floated in, carrying trays with more gelatin.

"Damn it, the butler's got family!" Deadpool recognized before sucking them up. The rest of the gelatin soon followed.

"WHO TOUCHED MY FOOD?"

Deadpool looked up to see an obese ghost with a bib, looking very frustrated.

"YOU TOUCHED MY FOOD?"

"No, I didn't touch the food at all. I sucked it up, but I didn't lay a finger on it!"

"SO YOU TOUCHED MY FOOD?"

**I don't like where this is going.**

"Neither do I."

"YOU TOUCHED MY FOOD!"

In a fit of heartburn and rage combined, the fat ghost spat out countless fireballs at the mercenary, whose incredibly fast reflexes had him moonwalking out of the way in record time.

Around fifteen fireballs later, the fat ghost paused to take a well-deserved breather.

**So you're going to suck him up now?**

"Nah, this has been too easy. I'll give him a break."

**…Wait, are you serious?**

"Of course not!"

In record time, Deadpool sucked up the ghost, whose efforts to swim away from the stream were unsuccessful.

Upon his disappearance, a small box appeared in the middle of the room.

"Oh, not another circle," Deadpool muttered before dry-humping it open.

Countless coins, bills, bars of gold, and jewels shot out.

One playing in his newly found riches later, Deadpool wandered into the next room.

"Oooh, something's cooking! Finally, a decent chimichanga," Deadpool said, jogging towards the smell of smoke.

If Deadpool was smiling, he wasn't anymore.

"The… door…"

**Door's on fire.**

"I know that, I know that."

**You going to do anything about it?**

"Well, I guess I could cook a chimichanga over this."

**Or you could just, y'know, use the oven. This is the kitchen.**

"But it's haunted and shit, isn't it?"

Fackmage did not respond. If he had a face to slap, it was probably slapped.

Deadpool sucked up the ghosts, of course, though the fire did not go out. However, another box emerged.

"Finally, more money!" Deadpool said with girlish glee.

The box, unfortunately, held another circle.

"Youngster! It's the Water Element! Now you can shoot water out of the vacuum of yours!" Gadd said through the (somehow still present) Game Boy Horror.

"And what if I just used a hose? Or a water gun?" Deadpool replied, before tossing the system into the fire.

After making sure it was completely destroyed, the fire was doused with the newly found water from a vacuum cleaner.

**Well, that wasn't that hard!**

"Where were you during the conversation with the old guy?"

Fackmage remained quiet. Again.

Through the door led to a lovely garden, albeit there was very little in the form of flora, save for a solitary seed.

**So, you're going to water that, then?**

"Water what now?"

**The plant, Deadpool. There's a plant over there that could use some water.**

"Nah, I bypassed that merit badge for one in kicking ass."

**There's money involved, but only if you water it exactly as I say.**

With a raised eyebrow, Deadpool followed Fackmage's instructions, accidentally filling a nearby water bowl.

"Arf arf!"

A ghost dog had emerged to drink from the bowl, though it seemed he was mainly hungry for one of Deadpool's legs.

Through either sheer coincidence or simply being a badass, Deadpool avoided all of the dog's charges, though his barking summoned a skeleton from underneath the soil.

"Fer the luvva dirt, get that dog to shut his yap!" the skeleton commanded. Deadpool chose to ignore the vacuum, preferring to deliver an uppercut to its skull. The skeleton fell to pieces, leaving several bones in its wake.

With a happy bark, the dog began licking at the bone buffet, fortunately just as the seed had sprouted into a healthy stem.

**That's enough for now.**

"But it's not even a flower!"

**Yes, but you've forgotten one major step in the process.**

"Being?"

**Being screw you, that's what!**

Deadpool held back a laugh as he sucked up the dog, the mercenary just noticing his presence.

Once the dog had disappeared, a sparkling emerged from his former doghouse.

**Betcha a dollar you wouldn't go in there.**

Before Fackmage had even completed his sentence, Deadpool had dove into the house, popping up in a cemetery. Several tombstones were placed sporadically in the graveyard, though each one did not have a name, nor the traditional "R. I. P." marking.

"Ha! I win!"

**Yes, but I don't have a dollar. I'm a voice in your head, after all.**

Deadpool would have made a witty remark if a bolt of lightning did not strike the largest of the tombstones, interrupting his train of bizarre thoughts.

From beneath the grave rose a purple ghost, seemingly made of shadows. His depressing gaze pierced into Deadpool's soul (assuming he didn't already sell it for a chimichanga or two), and the world around the mercenary disappeared.

When it returned, it was a battlefield of sorts, with only the purple ghost and the mercenary within.

Without even an evil laugh, the ghost had split himself apart, forming several shadowy copies of himself.

"Um… Fackmage?"

No response.

With the slightest bit of hesitation, Deadpool sucked up one of the ghosts that surrounded him. It was a shadow, clogging up the vacuum.

In desperation, the mercenary shot it out at another ghost.

Fortunately, the target was the actual ghost, who became dizzy after being whacked with one of his clones, giving Deadpool an opportunity to suck him up.

Unfortunately, the ghost had escaped, leaving more shadows in his wake. Lightning bolts shot down from the heavens to target the mercenary, each one exposing a newly formed shadow.

One more shadow was sucked up and shot, though the ghost managed to escape the crimson comedian's shots more often than he'd prefer. The third shot, however, did hit the ghost, who once again fell over in exhaustion.

One last suction did him in, and the battlefield dissipated, revealing the graveyard once again.

**You all right?**

"Yeah, I'm good. But what happened to you?"

**I guess I wasn't able to reach you. I think I can only talk to you when you're in the mansion itself, so you must have been sent away from it.**

Deadpool yawned.

**Look, the point is, you beat up another ghost, and that's always cool. So reward yourself with the key, and we can get out of here.**

"There's a key?"

Indeed, yet another chest had emerged following the shadow ghost's defeat, revealing another shining key. After admiring his reflection for a while, Deadpool shook himself back into his warped reality, and ran back to the mansion's entrance.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Two weeks.<strong>

**I thank you for reading.**


	3. The Third Floor

Taking the long route back to the mansion so as to water the large plant once again, according to Fackmage's instructions, Deadpool found himself in front of a locked door at the end of the first floor corridor.

"So this is what the key unlocks?" Deadpool asked, staring blankly at the colored key in his hand.

**That'd be it, all right. After this we should be able to reach the third floor.**

"So why don't we just unlock it right now?"

**For the same reason that we took the time to water the plant, of course.**

"Being?"

**I know what the hell is going on.**

Giving a shrug, Deadpool tossed the key at the door, somehow unlocking it and ridding the door of the spiked vines that grew upon it.

"Why do all of these doors have spikes on them?" Deadpool asked, not expecting an answer.

**Makes them look important, I guess. Would you be entirely interested in ignoring a door with vines growing on it?**

"…No."

**There you go!**

After finally opening the door, Deadpool once again found himself outside, where small pink ghosts floated about without paying much attention to the crimson comedian.

Passing by a birdhouse, Deadpool raised his middle finger in its direction.

**What was that for?**

"Not much of a birdhouse without a bird, so I flipped it one."

**Did you just perform a rude gesture with a polite favor simultaneously?**

"It's what I do."

As if it were a response, a slight breeze shook the birdhouse. A rolled-up sheet of paper fell out, and landed gracefully in Deadpool's hands.

"It's a letter," Deadpool muttered as he unraveled the paper. "Too bad I'm blind."

**I think it says, "Look out for Boos."**

"Screw that noise! If I want a whiskey sour, I'm going to have a damn whiskey sour!"

**No, we talked about this earlier; it's the names of the freaking ghosts! The ghosts!**

Deadpool did not hear Fackmage's latest comment, however, as he was striding forward with only the thought of a whiskey sour on his mind.

This behavior soon led, unfortunately, to his falling down a large hole in the middle of the courtyard.

"If this isn't an underground bar served by at least one hot girl, I'm not going to be very happy," Deadpool said, rubbing his sore head.

**Afraid not. Looks like there's just a hole.**

Deadpool turned, and there was, indeed, a small hole that appeared to be the back of a lion.

"Huh. Didn't expect one of those things here."

**What things would those be?**

"You know, where you put your head in the design and you're a knight, or a jelly donut, or a professional boxer turned taxi driver or something."

**I highly doubt it.**

"You just don't want to take my picture, you asshole!"

**What?**

"Fine, I'm going there without you! See if I care!"

True to his word, Deadpool stuck his head in the hole, which did lead to a lion head.

The room looked to be an altar of sorts, the kind used in standard offerings. Blue flames were lit upon countless torches that lead to the far wall, where a portrait of a man in red stood.

Unlike most portraits, this portrait was alive.

"Get me outta here!" the man cried, pounding his fists against the painting's front.

Raising his eyebrows, Deadpool quickly slid his head out of the hole.

**Well? How was it?**

"There's a guy in there! Why is there a guy in there?"

**Perhaps this is the one who hired you for the job?**

"How could he hire me if he's trapped in a damn portrait?"

**You really need to stop being logical.**

Deadpool nodded slightly, and climbed out of the hole's bottom, a cry of "What's the hold up?" from the trapped man echoing across the walls.

The hole turned out to be an empty well, near a small cabin.

"Finally, a bar!" Deadpool said, sprinting towards the cabin.

As one could assume, the cabin did not hold a bar, but merely held another mushroom weeping in the dark. Deadpool frowned, but helped himself to a meal nonetheless.

Across the courtyard, Deadpool opened a door, which led to a small gymnasium, complete with a muscular ghost in the room's middle, lifting a large weight.

"Get the girls… get the girls…" the ghost muttered to himself in time with his lifts.

**Looks like a real class act.**

"You kidding me? This guy isn't even one percent of the damn Hulk, let me tell you. I bet I could take him down in two rounds."

**You're on.**

Positioning himself behind a punching bag, Deadpool gave a cry of "SHOOOOORYUKEN!" before delivering a powerful strike to the bag.

Swinging like an obese pendulum, the bag landed straight in the ghost's face, causing him to drop the weight through his chest.

"Oh, so you can hold it, but it just drops you. Yeah, that makes sense," Deadpool sighed, another invisible tally put on his checklist.

"Oh, you wanna rumble, punk?" the ghost asked before swinging his arms in a windmill-like fashion. Deadpool leaped out of the way in time to smack another bag at his head, however.

Being a ghost of muscles rather than mind, it did not take long for a third and final bag to whack him, whereupon he fell down. In lieu of a referee, Deadpool silently called a TKO as he sucked him up in the vacuum.

"What'd I tell you? He's just a joke!"

**Yes, but you still lost the bet.**

"No I didn't! It was earlier than two rounds, even!"

**Two rounds would have meant it would have taken only two bags to the face before he got knocked down. You had three.**

"How does that qualify for a round?"

**The same way that I qualify as an actual entity; very loosely, yet undeniably.**

Deadpool rolled his eyes, but did not respond save for a few pound signs and lightning bolts clouding his mind.

The profanities did not last long, however, as Deadpool was unable to open the door out of the room.

**Locked?**

"Apparently. But we didn't miss a key anywhere, and Rocky here didn't drop a chest."

It was at that moment that Deadpool's eyes fell upon a treadmill in the corner of the room.

"Girl, look at this body!" Deadpool quipped before jogging towards the belt, and soon after jogging on it.

…**Oh, I get it. It's because you-**

"Oh hey, the key! Now we can leave, and she can stop looking at my body."

If Fackmage had a jaw, it would have dropped. Indeed, the key in question was wedged within the belt, and its movement led to it being released, falling in front of the (no longer jogging) Deadpool.

**The worst part is, I actually knew that.**

Having recovered, Fackmage rejoined Deadpool's head as the mercenary entered a large room filled with tables. After a brief removal of common specters, a large chest appeared upon one of the tables.

"Oh, of all my days to forget how to jump!" Deadpool said, running into the table.

**How do you forget how to jump, exactly?**

"I traded it for fifty bucks and a Swedish massage!"

**Damn. That's actually a pretty good deal.**

"I know, right?"

**Fortunately for you, we've got these flip panels for this situation.**

"Aw crap, don't tell me you're running late-night infomercials. I don't need another flippin' salad shooter, man!"

**No, it's-**

"Do you hear me? That freaking salad shooter was useless! I eat _chimichangas_, for crying out loud!"

**…You good?**

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks."

**Look, the panels are simple. Just walk on them.**

Deadpool did as he was told, and gravity was reversed. Deadpool found himself traversing the ceiling of the room.

"Oooooh, what a feeling…" Deadpool began to sing, moonwalking across the ceiling until he approached another panel. Gravity returned to normal, and Deadpool fell, face-first, onto the table with the chest.

**That's… convenient.**

"Convenient? Now how am I supposed to make Lionel Richie references?"

**Any other time, Deadpool. Any other damn time.**

With a newfound confidence in his ability to make reference to singers, Deadpool prodded the chest open, to find a third circle in there.

"YOUNGSTER! LOOKS LIKE YOU FOUND THE ICE ELEMENT!" E. Gadd yelled from the shack, the Game Boy Horror having been completely destroyed at last. "NOW YOUR VACUUM CAN SHOOT OUT CHUNKS OF ICE AT ENEMIES!"

"Couldn't I just lower the temperature when shooting water?" Deadpool asked himself, ignoring the old man's cries.

"…WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY?"

**You hear something?**

"Just you, Fackmage."

**Oh God, please don't make this a freaking romantic relationship.**

"Oh God, no! That's not what I meant at all!"

**Maybe you should just move on?**

"Yeah, see other people."

**No, I meant in the mansion. The third floor awaits.**

"…Oh, yeah, that's totally what I meant as well. Yeah."

* * *

><p>The third floor did not hold many surprises, as it could be easily compared to the first floor in design.<p>

Running across the floor, Deadpool's first stop was a washroom.

**…**

"…"

**Why are we here?**

"Hell if I know."

After that brief stop, the crimson comedian moved up one room.

**And now we're in the bathroom.**

"Ding!"

**Pardon?**

"Oh, nothing."

The conversation was interrupted by a haunting melody resonating from the bathtub. Indeed, a massive silhouette of what appeared to be a showering woman was reflected on the closed curtain.

"Oh my God, an actual woman," Deadpool remarked. "Sorry, ghosts, but the time has come for me to get my Deadpool on!"

**Whoa. Whoa, there.**

"What is it now?"

**You honestly think that if you find some attractive woman in a haunted mansion, it wouldn't be a trap.**

"Well, we haven't seen any traps here, have we?"

**Save for all of those doors that slammed into you back on the first floor.**

"I thought we agreed that we would never speak of that again!"

**Look, the point is you should take this with a grain of salt. Hell, she's taking a shower! You don't just interrupt people in the middle of their showers!**

"Oh, where's a big, strong man in red to help me pick up the soap now?" the voice from the shower said with a level of sultriness unimaginable to human ears.

**…Dude. Jump her bones.**

"Already on it!" Deadpool announced before ripping off the curtain.

What sat in the bathtub could not be qualified as a human, but, as one would figure, a ghost. However, the ghost did not even have human qualities, instead being a massive pig.

"Ooooh. What a hunk of man!" the pig said before giving a repulsive snort.

Deadpool blinked a few times before putting ice in the water and sucking up the ghost.

**Why did you put ice in there?**

"Because she deserved it, the bitch."

**I know what it means to know about the crying game…**

"Not helping."

Across the hall, Deadpool found a rather cozy room with a rocking chair with an end table, a handful of yarn balls lying upon the table in a small basket.

**Well, this is nice.**

"Eh. Could use some better color."

**Don't try to make a blood joke. These are ghosts we're talking about, remember?**

Deadpool lowered his extended index finger, aware that his one-liner would fail.

"Eh? Is that you, Horace?"

Deadpool's mutterings had caught the attention of an elderly ghost, knitting upon the rocking chair.

"Horace, if you're here, hand me a ball of yarn, would you? I need to prepare Morty's sweater in time for his birthday!" the ghost said, tilting her head towards the basket.

"Lady, let me introduce myself. The name's Deadpool, and the only thing that'll need stitches here will be your face!"

**Again, Deadpool. A ghost.**

"Crap!"

"Horace, please. You need your pill again, don't you?" the ghost replied, still doing her stitchwork. "Well, I'll get it as soon as I'm done. But please, hand me a ball of yarn!"

Deadpool looked at the woman, and the yarn, and the woman, and the yarn, and the ceiling, and his left hand, and the woman. With a swift motion, he grabbed a yarn ball, and tossed it at the woman's head. The woman gave a cry of surprise before returning to her stitching.

"You want to play rough, Horace, then we'll play rough!" the old woman said before firing knitting needles at the mercenary.

**You sure are getting all of the ladies today, Deadpool.**

"Again, not helping!"

Fortunately, the needles were not plentiful, leaving Deadpool plenty of time to toss the remaining yarn balls at the woman. After the balls were tossed, Deadpool wasted no time in sucking the woman up in the vacuum.

**Hey, if you check those books over there it tells you that you should put ice in the tub where the pig was showering.**

"So we did this out of order?"

**Not necessarily. You just got extremely lucky. Again.**

"It's a living!"

After running out, Deadpool aimlessly tried several doors before succeeding in front of a small room with a handful of candles.

**Looks like an altar.**

"But there isn't a lion!"

**All altars don't have lions.**

"Well… they should."

**True enough.**

A few moments passed before…

**Are you going to light them or not?**

"Light what?"

**The candles.**

"Nah, I think it's fine right now."

**Would you just light the freaking candles?**

"No. I don't wanna."

**The only way to proceed through the damn mansion is if you light the freaking candles!**

"Then I guess we won't be proceeding!"

Conveniently enough, the candles were lit at that moment by an unseen force.

"Aw, damn it! Now the feng shui is ruined!"

**Just suck up the ghosts.**

One ghost sucking later, Deadpool begrudgingly entered the next room to see a surprising sight.

"Is that… the moon?"

**Looks like it. I guess this room leads out of the mansion like a balcony.**

…

**Bet ya ten bucks you can't shoot the moon.**

Without a response, odd for the quip-heavy Deadpool, the mercenary pulled out a pistol and shot a solitary bullet at the moon.

The bullet made impact, and the moon exploded.

**Oh, shit! I didn't imagine you would actually do it!**

"Anything for money. That's still my motto. Now let's have it!"

**Deadpool. Do I exist?**

"…Oh, God DAMN it!"

**And now you've just caused the tides to be thrown out of whack, leading to an imminent destruction of the known world.**

Deadpool did not hear this latest part, as his attention was brought to the newly exploded moon. A shining star sat in the middle of the half of the orb that remained.

As if it was against his own will, the mercenary ran on a sparkling trail to the star, which he grabbed.

The star was absorbed into his body, which glowed in an array of colors as a happy tune played in the background. The effects lasted about ten seconds before Deadpool returned to normal and he returned to the mansion.

**What happened?**

"I think I just tripped more balls than you could imagine."

**That's a lot of balls.**

Around a corner or two Deadpool entered another room, holding nothing more than a billiards table and a floating pool cue.

"Hey, chap!" the pool cue greeted, before a cap-wearing ghost appeared that was holding the cue.

**Is he gay?**

"Pretty sure he's gay."

"Say, you up for a round, chap?" the player asked. "Playing 9-ball is getting pretty boring nowadays!"

**Oh God, I hope he's talking about billiards.**

Deadpool didn't hear this remark, as he was saying the exact same thing.

"Hey, no need to be scared, chap!" the ghost replied. "Look, I'll go first."

With a poke, the billiard balls on the table flew around, ricocheting off of the walls due to some ghostly effect. With quick precision, Deadpool grabbed one of the balls and tossed it at the ghost.

**What is it with you and throwing things at ghosts, anyway?**

"It just makes sense."

**But it _doesn't_ make sense.**

"Exactly!"

**…Wait, what?**

A few more balls tossed later, the player collapsed in a heap on the floor, ready for Deadpool to suck him up into the vacuum.

**First you grab his balls, and then you suck him? And I thought the ghost was gay.**

"Yeah, real mature."

**Except you would have made the same joke, wouldn't you?**

Deadpool stifled a laugh before entering a room across from the now-barren table.

The room held a massive sheet on one side, with a small projector on the other.

**You up for a film?**

"I wonder if Ghostbusters was ever made in a shoddy, black-and-white fashion?"

Whacking the projector, Deadpool sat back on his chair as the machine gave a slight ticking and showed… nothing.

**Um… Deadpool?**

"Sh. I love this one."

Three hours later, Deadpool finally got up.

**Did you just spend three hours staring at nothing?**

"What are you talking about? It was a documentary all about how awesome I am!"

**Ah, right. You have that ego-vision thing going on.**

"On the plus side, there aren't any ghosts here!"

It was at this time, of course, that a handful of shadows were found on the sheet.

**Nice work.**

"Oh, screw you."

One sucking session later, a small box appeared in the corner of the room. A dry humping session later had a filthy glove pop out of it.

"Do you have any idea why we're collecting some guy's dirty laundry?"

**I have a hunch, but I don't think we have enough items to prove my point yet. There's at least one more that remains.**

"And where would that be?"

**The second floor.**

Behind his mask, one of Deadpool's eyes twitched ever so slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

**Because this is a linear game!**

"I hate linear games! Aren't wide-open sandbox games all the rage nowadays?"

**This was 2001, Deadpool.**

"I wasn't even popular back then!"

**Whatever. The point of the matter is that you've got to get back down there and get the last item!**

"All right, all right! What are you, GameFAQs or something?"

**…**

* * *

><p>The one remaining room on the second floor was similar to the nursery nearby, with a bunk bed, a series of toys on the floor, and a set of planes on strings hanging from the ceiling.<p>

"…"

**Well? Any comments?**

"Nope."

**Well, there's something in here, I know that.**

"You mean toys?"

**No, I mean laundry.**

"…That's the first time I've heard that phrase without a hint of sarcasm."

**First time for everything.**

"Would ya be quiet, mister!" said a voice from the beds.

Two small ghosts that looked like the sons of a pompous British ghost peeked their heads up from their sheets.

"We're very tired!" the lower ghost complained.

"So shut up, mister!" the higher voice said.

Deadpool raised the vacuum and sucked the duo up.

**Wait, that's not supposed to happen!**

"They're ghosts. They're supposed to be sucked up!"

**No, but they have this intricate system where they go around in cars and planes and throw bombs at you!**

"Why would you want this to happen, exactly?"

**Because I'm pretty bored, to be honest.**

"Well, I didn't ask you to join me!"

**I'm a figment of your overly stressed imagination! Neither of us asked for the other's company!**

"Whatever, man."

Deadpool grumbled to himself as he picked up a single shoe that emerged when the ghosts disappeared.

"There, the last item. Now what?"

**Now you figure it out on your own, if you think you can handle it.**

"What?"

**You heard me! You don't want me around, so I'll shut up!**

"But… no, I didn't mean it, man. You know that, I know that. I just don't want you to watch me suffer!"

**It's all right. I forgive you, bro.**

"And you'll always be the best voice in my head I've ever had."

**…**

"…"

**No homo.**

"Indeed. A total and complete lack of homo."

* * *

><p>Fackmage's instructions led Deadpool back to a room on the first floor.<p>

"Isn't this the place with the crystal ball?"

**Just give it a second.**

It was two seconds later that a ghost dressed in the standard fortune teller's garb emerged across the crystal ball.

"I sense that you have items for me to observe," the ghost said, extending a hand. "Let me see them."

Deadpool flinched.

**What? Just give her the laundry!**

"But I took one of the items when I was tripping balls! And I'm still tripping balls!"

**Oh crap, now I'm tripping balls!**

"You are both morons," the ghost mumbled. "Let me see the damn future so I can die in peace."

"Aren't you already dead?" Deadpool asked.

"Don't press your luck," the ghost retorted. "Just give me an item."

Deadpool thought for a moment, before handing the vacuum cleaner to the fortune teller.

The ghost stared at the vacuum for a few moments, before making her prediction known.

"I see a death in the near future of somebody in this very room," the ghost announced before handing the vacuum back.

"Nice prediction," Deadpool quipped before sucking the ghost up.

**Bold words for somebody no longer tripping balls.**

"Do you even have balls to trip?"

**One of the billiards guy's balls landed right in my nonexistent eye, so I'm fairly confident in my progress with balls.**

"Can we stop talking about balls? This is about as mature as-"

**One of your standard adventures?**

"…Actually, yes."

* * *

><p>High on the third floor stood the next room, which held nothing but a series of deer heads and a few guns.<p>

"Finally, some weapons!"

**I doubt they're usable nowadays. Furthermore, they're probably ghost weapons that follow that stupid train of logic that they've got.**

Indeed, Deadpool's attempt at grabbing the guns was fruitless, due to the fact that the weapons were bolted to the wall.

**Looks like the ghosts are common here. Let's just get them.**

"I hate these kinds of rooms. They don't have any purpose!"

**Well, they provide keys, I suppose. And that ghost looks like it's weak to ice, meaning it shows how the various elements have to be kept for certain rooms in order to progress.**

"We have limits on the elements?"

**Oh, sorry. Explanation mode again.**

After the ghosts were sucked up, Deadpool maneuvered his way through the empty hallway to a massive balcony filled with potted plants.

**You should water those.**

"Why do you want me to water these things so often, anyways? Can't we just set fire to 'em? That's not only more fun, but it doesn't involve me being a maid in my own damn mansion!"

**Yes, but they provide money if watered.**

"No they don't! They just grow obnoxiously large and have no purpose!"

**That's just the one plant. Watch.**

As the conversation was happening, a large collection of clouds gathered above the mansion. A slight shower poured down, watering the entirety of the plants and wetting the oddly shaped statues that reside in the middle. A large collection of various coins, bills, gold bars, and jewels poured out of the plants.

One hording later, Deadpool finally took notice of the circle of ghosts that were cackling in the middle of the balcony.

"Heeeeee hee hee… looks like you've arrived, red!" one ghost said.

"You may have captured some of us…" another continued.

"But with our powers combined, we're a force to be reckoned with!" a third finished.

**Oh God, it's Ghost Captain Planet!**

Deadpool decided to not continue the trend, but instead pulled out the vacuum cleaner.

"Nice try, Red…"

"But this time it's our turn…"

"To make you disappear!"

The circle of ghosts surrounded the crimson comedian before, again, teleporting him away from the real mansion.

While the balcony still remained, the statues had frozen over, the creatures' horns glistening.

What captured Deadpool's attention, however, was the fact that the ghosts had combined into one massive ghost. The colossus chased after Deadpool, who, without his consent, had started riding the vacuum cleaner as if it were a broomstick.

With a bit of luck (or skill, depending on who you asked), Deadpool managed to learn how to control the vacuum from his new position, and made the larger ghost hit one of the horns.

With a satisfying pop, the fifteen smaller ghosts flew around the stadium.

Aware of his surroundings, Deadpool shot ice at the ghosts, before sucking up the captured specters. Around eight were captured before the ghosts turned back into the larger one, though his size was vastly cut with half of the ghosts gone.

The process repeated a handful of times, each time the ghosts avoiding the stream of ice and the horns with the diminishing number and size, respectfully. Deadpool's inability to jump off the vacuum did not assist matters.

After roughly the time it would take for Deadpool to watch a non-existent documentary, the final ghost was captured, and Deadpool flipped off of the vacuum, miraculously landing on his feet.

Where the ghost floated lay a large box and a glistening yellow diamond.

**Deadpool! Are you all right?**

"Yeah, I think so."

**Looks like you've got all fifty of the smaller Boos. That diamond must be your reward.**

"Booze can be small?"

**…Yes, Deadpool. Like a fifth.**

"Sure, that makes sense.

"…Y'know, this is going pretty well! I got all of those stupid ghosts, I have the key to the final section here, and now I'm even richer than I was! Nothing can ruin this!"

The clouds had not disappeared during Deadpool's battle, however, leading to a bolt of lightning striking the roof of the mansion. In a few moments, the entirety of the mansion suffered from a blackout.

**…Never say anything ever again.**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: The fact that I can't finish a four-part story in a year disappoints me.<strong>

**I thank you for reading, and I wish you a very happy birthday, Jane.**


	4. The Basement

Upon the newly darkened balcony, Deadpool felt for the door (injuring his hands on the still-present thorns in the process) and eventually unlocked it.

**Whoa. Hold up.**

"Oh, now what? We have a blackout throught the whole damn place, and that's probably a problem. Somehow."

**I'm afraid that there is something much more significant that we must handle first, Deadpool.**

"It had better not involve that damned plant again."

**So what if it does?**

"The thing's already bloomed! Nothing happened!"

**So it's already bloomed. That doesn't mean it can no longer be watered.**

"No! I'm tired of it. My duds are already soaked from when that skeleton popped up during the first one."

**Watering the plant will end up with you gaining a very large sum of cash.**

One gaining a very large sum of cash later, Deadpool finally entered the mansion's fourth area.

Compared to the rest of the corridors, the third floor hallway had a marble-like feel to it, as if it were a medieval era castle instead of a haunted mansion. It was truly a sight to behold when entered.

"I'm bored."

**Yeah, so am I.**

Entering a nearby door, a trio of telephones sat on small stools in the otherwise bland room. Two of the receivers were flying off in a typical fashion, the dull ringing echoing through the room.

Walking over, Deadpool picked up the first of the phones.

"...Hello? May I ask who is speaking, please?" a timid voice asked from the opposite end of the receiver.

"Is this the pizza guy?" Deadpool asked, not really caring.

"I'm not the pizza guy!"

**Bro. It's totally the pizza guy. Get the pizza.**

"Look, can I just get the pizza, please?"

"I already told you, I'm not the pizza guy!"

"Is that you, youngster?" the voice of E. Gadd said from the phone.

**Oh, great. As if things weren't confusing enough.**

"Does this mean that you're the pizza guy?"

"No, son. I'm also not the pizza guy."

"I don't even like pizza!"

"Yeah, call me back when you get a pizza for me, will ya?" Deadpool finished before placing the phone back in its rightful place.

**Who was that, anyway?**

"Something about car insurance payments. I destroy 'em, though, so it's useless."

**So it wasn't the pizza guy after all.**

"Yeah. What a gyp."

Several moments passed.

"...So, what now?"

**Well, we're in a blackout, meaning that we should probably find the breaker room.**

"Wasn't that in the basement?"

**True enough, it is. Unfortunately, it is now locked.**

"...By?"

**Another ghost.**

"Y'know, just once, I'd like this mansion to have something different. Something that isn't a goddamned ghost."

**What about that skeleton we found near where the giant plant is?**

"You're still talking?"

**...Look, the ghost in question should be somewhere on the second floor.**

"Why would he be there?"

**To waste our time, apparently.**

One maneuvering through half of the mansion later, Deadpool finally reached the wardrobe room once again. The room held nothing but a somewhat humble-looking ghost with his arms risen in a stereotypical scary pose.

"Boooooogidy boogidy boogidy boogidy! Boooooooooooooooooooogidy boogidy boogidy boogidy!" the ghost cried, his arms extending ever so slightly to the unimpressed Deadpool, who gave a sigh and sucked the ghost up in one sitting.

**...Is he gone?**

"Yeah, I just got rid of him."

**Oh, thank God. That was the creepiest thing ever.**

"...I hope, for all of our sakes, that you're joking around."

**Let me tell you, things just haven't been the same since I tripped balls.**

"...Yeah, I have to agree with you there."

After using the newly-found key to unlock the breaker room, the power was restored to the mansion.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa. This makes no sense."

**What is it this time?**

"Wasn't the cause of the blackout a bolt of lightning?"

**...It was! You've just uncovered a fatal contradiction in the witness' testimony!**

"OBJECTION!" Deadpool cried out with a point of the finger, a red suit now replacing his usual getup.

It was at that time that the sudden realization that no prosecutor, witness, or courtroom was present hit.

**Eh. It needed work anyways.**

The crimson comedian than proceeded to a fairly large, yet surprisingly empty cellar, with only a few barrels present.

"Finally, some decent booze!"

**Barrels are empty.**

And indeed they were.

"This is the worst haunted mansion ever."

**Also, we have to go back to the third floor now.**

"No. I don't wanna."

**Look, I know this is just backtracking for the sake of extending our adventure, but if you want the pizza, you're going to have to do something eventually!**

There was a moment of silence.

"...The pizza was a low blow," Deadpool whined before teleporting up to the third floor.

...Teleporting?

**Yeah, why didn't you do that when the blackout happened?**

"...Oh, crap, I KNEW that I was forgetting something!"

Regardless, Deadpool finally arrived at the next room, holding nothing more than three nutcracker-like soldiers.

"Why is it that these rooms are all so... unexciting?"

**Probably because they're running out of ideas. A mansion can only hold so many rooms, it seems.**

"Hell, why don't they just put another bathroom or something? If they made two of those rooms, why didn't they make another bedroom or something? And what's the purpose of having something like a fortune-teller's room, or a telephone room?"

**I think it has something to do with the feng shui, maybe? Or perhaps it's a look into the greed in the minds of those who can afford homes such as this.**

"I disagree. With the right mindset, even one with all of the money in the world can be a donator and live moderately."

**Yes, but I was referring to those people as a vague collective. After all, not all men are created equal. For example, take those soldiers marching toward us.**

"...Did you just say soldiers?"

Indeed, the trio of soldiers had come to life, firing pop-guns and giving off steam as their clockwork rotated.

**No, let me finish. These soldiers, being mainly robotic, are unlike men. Therefore, it proves that men aren't equal unless gathered into the aforementioned collective.**

"Could we wait until after I'm done sucking these guys up?" Deadpool asked, interrupting his absorption of the first soldier.

Around three minutes later, the soldiers had been absorbed, and a small elevator with its own clockwork fell from the ceiling.

"What."

**What.**

"...I guess we should get on it?"

**I don't trust elevators that look like they were made by Chinese immigrants.**

"So you're saying you don't like elevators at all?"

**You are an asshole. Accurate, but an asshole.**

Leaping on, the elevator wound its way up to its destination.

"Where are we?"

**Hell if I know. I'm still recovering after that awful pun from the earlier narration.**

A handful of fires with tribal ghosts dancing around were the only noteworthy things of the new location.

That, and it was the roof.

**Why are there fires on the roof?**

"Probably because someone had to say it."

**Furthermore, why would you want to go on the roof in the first place?**

"To do this, of course!"

With a joyous cry and a swing in his step, Deadpool jumped off of the roof, giving off a dull thud.

Two minutes later, a worse for wear Deadpool teleported back onto the roof.

**The healing factor is still in effect, I see.**

"Why is it that I can only die when I least want to?"

**I'd have that thought if I were alive.**

"Amen, brother."

Ignoring the still-dancing ghosts, Deadpool climbed up a boring ladder leading to a chimney.

**Didn't we already agree that you wouldn't die from heights?**

"Second time's the charm, bitch!"

With another step, Deadpool plummeted through the soot-filled chute before his head collided with the bottom of a room with a sealed-off door.

...Which held nothing.

"Oh, what a gyp!"

**Didn't you just say that?**

"Bold words for somebody who didn't fall down a few stories two times in a row."

**Well, I do share your sympathies. One would figure at least a few weapons behind a door with a wooden seal.**

"You can't make seals out of wood!"

**It's on the door, Deadpool.**

"But it's not a seal!"

**It's sealed off. It's a seal.**

"Now I want another drink."

**I didn't even mention the damn Boos!**

"Make that two drinks."

**Three. I'll need it after this.**

After leaving this fairly uneventful room, the latest room to capture the ever-fleeting attention of the mercenary was a humble little room with a table and a handful of chairs.

**Seems to be a sort of a sitting room.**

"Hey. Hey. Add an H."

**...The sittingh room?**

"No, no, the other place."

**...The hsitting room?**

"Change those two around."

**The hsittign room. Hilarious.**

"You don't get it?"

**It's probably just you.**

The next room was just as unexciting, save for the fact that the ceiling and the floor had swapped.

**Aw, damnit, the balls are being tripped again.**

"I like it, actually. Gives a nice sense of feng shui."

**You'd better watch where you step, or else balls won't be the only thing tripping here.**

"Would you stop saying that? It got old before this chapter started."

"SHUT UP!" a voice not belonging to either Fackmage or Deadpool cried out.

Looking up to a small bed, a young, female ghost was taking a nap, seemingly shouting in her sleep.

"I'M REALLY TIRED, YOU JERKS! CAN'T A GIRL NAP IN PEACE?" the ghost shouted before turning over in her sleep.

"Are we supposed to leave her alone, or what?"

**It's the right thing to do, Deadpool. Sometimes it's just better to leave them alone.**

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

...

**That being said, I'll bet you a dollar that you wouldn't spray her with water.**

"But you can't deliver on that! You're a figment of my imagination, aren't you?"

**Two dollars.**

The next moment, the ghost was rudely awoken by a blast of water to her face. Not long after, she was added to the vacuum cleaner's collection.

"...Aw, crap!"

**It's official: you have the self-control of a toddler.**

"You're not exactly Jiminy Cricket yourself."

After once again returning to the third floor, the one-man duo entered a room filled with empty suits of armor, empty gazes patrolling the room as they held swords, maces, and shields.

**Interesting. I guess the ghosts could haunt these things and be able to manifest their abilities for their own.**

Fackmage's hypothetical situation was interrupted as a knight's sword swung down when Deadpool came a bit too close.

**...Or, y'know, just make them boring traps. You'd imagine for a group of ghosts they'd be able to have some original ideas.**

"Probably can't write them down."

**But they can hold objects, though!**

"Can they move them in order to write?"

**Probably!**

"Hold up, I just realized I'm having what could be considered a one-sided conversation with myself on the thought process of a ghost."

**So?**

"Good point."

Entering the adjacent room, the knights were replaced by a large number of ceramic jars and pots, a pot-shaped ghost dwelling in one of the larger ones.

"Well, howdy to ya and yers!" the ghost greeted with a powerful southern drawl."What brings y'all here to mah little ol' studio?"

"I'm here to... um..." Deadpool paused. "What am I here to do?"

**When all else fails, just go for the old standard.**

"I'm here to kick ass and suck up ghosts in a vacuum cleaner," Deadpool said finally. "And I'm all out of ass."

"Mah word, that's a problem for me, now ain't it?" the ghost asked. "Tell ya what, we'll play a game for mah life, we will! Ah'll create a few clones to go around in these here jars, and if you freeze me eight times, then ya'll are winners!"

"What kind of a deal is that?" Deadpool asked. "I could just as easily suck you up right now."

"But if y'all do that, we can't play this game, and then ya won't be able to talk to me no more!"

It was the fastest suction Deadpool had ever done.

**Thank you. Thank you so very much.**

After another trip from the third floor to the basement, much to the chagrin of both Deadpool and, somehow, Fackmage, the two entered a dimly-lit room.

Sewage ran through the room like a stream, a pipe letting out the sludge on the opposite side of a mesh fence.

"What the hell is this?"

**Looks like a puzzle. I think we're supposed to go to the other side, stop the pipe from producing this water, drain it out, and get a key.**

"Why can't I use the vacuum again?"

**Because that would be stupidly easy. If you want this to be easy, it can't be stupid, I believe.**

Silently accepting the vaguely-worded challenge, Deadpool prepared a pistol in his hand before firing it between the mesh and hitting the spigot upon the pipe, halting the production of sewage. Deadpool then produced a small sponge from a satchel, tossing it to the ground. The sponge absorbed the liquid (albeit becoming a vomit-green color), leaving an odorous smell and a key.

**I'll hand it to you, that was idiotic. Not stupid, just idiotic.**

Entering the next room, Deadpool's teeth started chattering.

**Cold storage?**

"The h-h-hell do you think?"

Aside from the omnipresent ice, a pair of twigs lay on the ground.

"Talk about packing heat!" Deadpool quipped as he set the sticks aflame with the vacuum.

"NO!"

A parka-donned ghost emerged near the newly-lit fire, an accusatory finger pointed at the crimson comedian.

"Do you realize what you have done? You have created fire! In the cold storage! You've tainted my ice hole!" the ghost said.

"Wait. I tainted your what?" Deadpool asked.

"My ice hole, you bas-"

"WAAAAAA HA HA HA HA!"

"Stop laughing! Stop laughing this instant!"

"I've tainted his... his... BWAAAAA HA HA HA!"

**His ice hole! Oh God, that's rich! WAAAA HA HA HA! We've totally penetrated his ice hole! WAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA!**

"No! No, it's an ice hole. An ice hole! You've lit my ice hole aflame!"

The laughter only increased. Heaving a sigh, the ghost crawled into the vacuum himself.

Several minutes later, Deadpool and Fackmage managed to recover after cracking another hundred or so jokes, before getting a key.

**I think that we're nearing the end. It's more than likely that we'll find the source of all these ghosts soon.**

"Aw, I hate having to be serious. Why can't we just make more ice hole jokes?"

**It depends. Can I use the phrase "tripping balls" again?**

"Ew, no."

**Then I guess we can't make those jokes anymore.**

"Awwww..."

Again moving back up to the third floor, Deadpool unlocked the final door with the final key, and entered a room filled with portraits of various lesser ghosts, painted by another ghost, wearing a typical hat for the art and flaunting a grey beard.

"Ah, so you are ze troublemaker zat 'as been running amok een ze house, no?" the ghost asked, his French accent so blatant it almost seemed forced. "Eet ees an honor."

"Cut the crap, crossoint-face. You're the one running this joint, and the sooner you get into this vacuum cleaner, the sooner I get my pizza!" Deadpool interrupted, holding up both the aforementioned vacuum and a pistol.

"Ah, zat ees vhy you are here. Very well, but let me show off my gallery, eef you will," the ghost said, before making the ghosts appear from the paintings with a snap of his paranormal fingers.

"Look at my masterpieces! Ze orange ghost, ze innocent soul of whimsy. Ze pink ghost, with ze very essence of height. Ze white ghost, who simply vants a hug. Ze purple ghost, zat throws bombs for no real reason. Ze green ghost, who leaves banana peels everyvhere and makes cleaning up a real beetch! Damn zat ghost!" the painter commented as Deadpool dispatched of them in order.

"Und now... zere is only me, no? Ze finale, vith novhere to hide. A testament to ze utter essence, ze feel, ze very being of ze art! Let me not go vith seemply a cry, sir; let my demise be ze greatest of zem all!"

Deadpool nodded, before shooting the ghost in a plethora of awe-inspiring moves as he sucked him up. The crimson comedian took to the skies more than once during the suction, performing various flips and tricks while still not touching the ghost. Finally, the specter was absorbed, leaving behind the hat and a golden key.

**Crap, I blinked. Do it again! Do it again!**

Grabbing the key, Deadpool placed the hat onto a nearby stool, gave the faintest hint of a salute, and left.

**Yeah, we have to go down the stairs again.**

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I was on a roll there! Why did you stop me?"

**Because I was-**

"Don't say it."

**I was-**

"Dooooon't say it!"

**Oh, fine. Let's just end this, shall we?**

At the very bottom of the mansion, at the end of the basement hallway, the final vines faded away in the presence of the golden key, leading to a familiar altar.

"Isn't this where we got that sweet photo op?"

**Looks like it. I wonder if that weird guy in the portrait is still here.**

"Hee hee hee... better believe it!"

Deadpool looked forwards. King Boo cackled with delight in front of the portrait, the man's face now tilted downwards.

"It's been a while, Red. But now it's time for you to join this sap in a world of my own. Ghosts will finally be able to run free, and the first step will be freeing my subordinates. But now..."

King Boo gave another laugh as he dove into the painting, which turned into a ferocious beast with fiery red hair. The creature opened his maw and began to give a suction of his own, which Deadpool was unable to withstand as he flew into the painting himself.

After recovering from the rough landing, Deadpool glanced upwards to see the beast himself in all of his glory. With the body of a turtle on hind legs, save for spikes on his shell, his height nearly quadrupled the mercenary's. Tossing spiked balls, the creature slowly walked towards Deadpool, who was busy occupying his time dodging the various obstacles from both the behemoth and the battlefield.

Eventually, Deadpool managed to blow one of the balls back as the creature was breathing fire, knocking his head off.

"What, no blood?" Deadpool observed, oblivious to the rattled King Boo floating out and, soon after, back in to the robotic suit.

The process repeated, though Deadpool was able to deliver some damage to the royal ghost. The king's next move was putting the head on backwards, rampaging through the battleground in the hopes that he could crush the crimson comedian.

With more acrobatics, Deadpool got another shot in, though less damage was delivered as the robot's head shot out icicles from its eye sockets.

The king soon started using the suction power once again, leaving Deadpool battered after a trip and a visit into the robot's stomach. It took a lucky shot and an even luckier suction to get King Boo into the vacuum once and for all, leaving nothing but the jeweled crown in Deadpool's free hand.

Landing back in the mansion, Deadpool clutched the portrait in his again free hand, the crown adorning his head.

* * *

><p>"So, you've got some more ghosts for me?" E. Gadd asked, the portraits flying out of his machine as the excess ghosts returned to their original state.<p>

"And this, geezer," Deadpool said, handing the portrait to the professor.

"You seem worried, youngster. Something on your mind?"

Deadpool sighed as he raised a gun to the old man, a sign that he shouldn't proceed with his line of questioning.

Where was Fackmage? At about this time he would usually deliver a line of some sort, wouldn't he?

Deadpool's thoughts were interrupted as a man in red plopped out of the machine. Instinctively, the mercenary handed him back his hat, glove, and shoe that were missing from his appearance.

"Thank you-a so much for saving-a my ass!" the man said, shaking the mercenary's hand. "It was-a good fun traveling with you!"

"With me?" Deadpool said aloud. "So you mean..."

"Yes... Fackmage was-a me," the man admitted. "It was-a the only way I could make-a sure you would help me out."

"Well... thanks, I guess," Deadpool responded, rubbing his head in a surprisingly sheepish manner. "It was pretty fun on my side as well."

"That's good-a to hear. But... I'd-a better go. I need to get a drink-a and stop tripping-a balls."

With that, the men in red both left the mansion, leaving E. Gadd alone with his paintings.

* * *

><p><strong>Where are they now?<strong>

TOAD was eventually digested, and became part of the cycle of life.

E. GADD sold the ghosts for a fortune, and upgraded his shack to a more luxurious one.

KING BOO's portrait is currently adorned on the wall of a Subway in Montana.

LUIGI wasn't in this story. Screw you, Luigi.

MARIO eventually took another Super Mushroom, and is still tripping balls to this day.

DEADPOOL used his riches to buy another mansion, which was burned down in two weeks after an impromptu visit from Ghost Rider. He still has not gotten his pizza.

THE PIZZA GUY eventually got a job at a store that sells tacos. He is still only getting minimum wage.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I thank you for reading.<strong>


End file.
